Second Chances
by BlurglesmurfKlaine
Summary: Kurt and Blaine practically grew up together and were best childhood friends. Until one day, a horrible car accident leaves Blaine dead and Kurt with 8 years of therapy. One day, Mr. Shue announces a new member to the club... Blaine Anderson. Kurt and Blaine soon find that they get a second chance at friendship, and maybe something more...
1. Prologue

Summary: Kurt and Blaine practically grew up together and were best childhood friends. Until one day, a horrible car accident leaves Blaine dead and Kurt with 8 years of therapy. One day, Mr. Shue announces a new member to the club... Blaine Anderson. Kurt and Blaine soon find that they get a second chance at friendship, and maybe something more...

So I wrote this and its actually not that great but I think chapter one is better

*** *** ***

Prologue  
***8 Years Ago***

Blaine and Kurt sat in the backseat of the Anderson's car, practically bouncing around in excitement. "I'm gonna go see the lions and the tigers and the bears!" Blaine stated.

"Oh, my!" Joked his mom.

"I'm mostly excited for the alligators!" Kurt proclaimed.

"Feeling bit adventurous today, are we, Kurt?" Asked Blaine's dad, chuckle in his voice.

"Oui, très!" (Yes, very!) Kurt exclaimed in fluent French. Before she passed away the year before, his mom had taken every opportunity she had to teach Kurt French, which she knew quite well, and now, he did too. He'd been speaking more and more in it since her death.

Blaine stuck his tongue out at him. "Show off. I can do that, too!"

"Only cause I taught you!" He replied. Kurt laughed. "And you can only say hello, and goodbye!"

"bonjour, au revoir," (Hello, goodbye) Blaine said in not so fluent French. Despite all the teasing, the boys had picked up a habit of using those two words when greeting and leaving each other, instead of plain old English.

"It's a good thing you two have your little hello and goodbyes," Mrs. Anderson started. "It's like your own little secret language, so if your bodies ever get taken over by aliens or something, you'll know which is fake."

Before Kurt could even open his mouth to respond, his entire weight was being thrashed around as an 18 wheeler came and slammed into the side opposite his seat and sent their car rolling. He felt his head being yanked around, and slam against the car a few times, knocking him out before the car finally rolled to a stop. Upside down.

The tears spilled from the frightened nine year old's eyes as he woke up, not knowing how long he'd been knocked out, and cried out for help. "Help!" He sobbed. He turned his head to look at Mrs. Anderson, who's neck was twisted at an awkward angle and laid there motionless. Her husband wasn't moving either, and had blood dripping all down his face. He turned to face his best friend. "Blaine," he pleaded. "Blaine wake up!"

The darker haired boy's eyes fluttered open and he cried out in agony, clutching his chest. "Kurt," he choked, voice weak and raspy. "It hurts to breathe." When he removed his hands, it was revealed that a piece of shrapnel had lodged itself in Blaine's lungs, and he had multiple lesions in his stomach as well as many cuts and scrapes all over his body, even some glass in his arms.

The sound of sirens wailing was coming closer and closer, louder and louder. "Blaine please, please, please stay awake," he begged hysterically. "Stay awake with me until help comes please, I'm so scared." He sobbed, and a searing pain shot through his legs.

"I'll try but, Kurtie, it hurts so much," Blaine breathed, face getting paler and paler as he lost more and more blood.

Kurt reached out for Blaine's blood soaked hand. "Don't leave me!" The sound of crunching and metal scraping against metal filled the car. "Hang on! They're almost here, just hold on, please!"

"I can't... Feel..." He barely managed. "I'm sorry, I just... I'm so sleepy... Kurt, I'm—" he took a sharp, painful breath in, and tried forcing a smile but it came out more of a grimace from the pain. "Au... rev—" before Blaine could finish his thought, he took two breaths before his eyes fluttered closed and didn't open up again.

Kurt felt Blaine's hand go limp, but still held on. "Blaine..? Blaine. Blaine!" He shouted. "Wake up, help!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "Please help!"

Finally, the firemen got the door to open and unbuckled Kurt, but when they tried to take him out, he refused. "No you have to help him, please! Save them!" He begged. The fireman pulled Kurt out of Blaine's loose grasp and helped him into an ambulance, but not before he saw the same man check all three of the Andersons for pulses, look back, and sadly shake his head.

"No pulses from any of them."

Kurt's stomach dropped. He'd seen enough cop shows to know what that meant... "No... No!" He shouted. "You're lying! Why are you lying!" His voice cracked and his face crumpled as tears spilled from his eyes. "You have to save them..."

The fireman that had carried him out said. "I'm taking this kid to a medic, I think he's got a broken leg."

Kurt fought them every second they put him on the gurney, because they had to go back for them. They had to.

This couldn't be happening.

***

Kurt was sitting in the hospital bed with a cast on his leg, waiting for his dad to come when a little girl with brown skin and dark hair about his age came up towards him. "Heard you were in an accident." She stated. When Kurt stared right through her without replying, she kept going. "I know cause my dad's the fireman who took you out of the car."

Kurt turned towards her and bitterly said. "Well, he didn't save the rest of us."

"That's because it was too late," she answered sadly. "It happens a lot..." She looked down at her feet.

"Shut up!" Kurt snapped. "It wasn't too late! He could've saved them, but they just... Left them there..." His voice shook and his whole body trembled.

She took his hand and looked up at him with knowing eyes. "I'm sorry..." She said simply.

"I-It's ok," Kurt stuttered, looking down. He looked up at the girl. "Thanks..." He mumbled.

She nodded. "No problem... I have to go now, my day's on patrol again... I'm Santana, by the way. If you want me to come back I can."

Kurt tried to force a smile, but the result was still sort of a grimace.. "That'd be nice."

***

It was two weeks after the accident and Kurt sat in Dr. Miller's office, still refusing to talk about it. The questions started off ok—How was your day? What do you like to do? Whats your favorite color?—but if they ever drifted towards cars or Blaine, Kurt would either shift the direction of the conversation, or stop responding.

Kurt didn't want to talk about what had happened. He didn't want to talk about the car or what he saw it what he said it anything. He just wanted to pretend like that day never happened. He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that there even was an accident.

Because that meant admitting Blaine was really gone.

*** *** ***

A/N: So the prologue was super short (and shitty sorry) but that is why I posted the first chapter up at the same time! :) also this is super depressing who let me write in the first place?


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
***8 Years Later***

Kurt woke up and swung his legs around his bed, letting them dangle for a bit before checking his clock. 12. He still had an hour and half until his appointment, but he still started getting ready. Stretching his arms above his head, he got up and headed towards the bathroom, brushing his teeth, combing his hair, the usual business.

But things didn't start getting weird until he headed downstairs and saw his dad on the recliner, still in his pajamas. Kurt's eyes widened in surprise. "Dad!" He scolded. "What are you doing still in your pajamas?"

Burt looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. "It's Sunday, the shop is closed."

"Uh, yeah, but you've still gotta take me to Dr. Miller's!" He pointed out.

His dad cocked his head to the side. "Who's Dr. Miller?"

Kurt's jaw dropped. "What do you mean who's Dr. Miller? I've been seeing him for 8 years!"

Burt chuckled. "I think you were a little young to be dating a doctor when you were nine," he joked. Kurt's jaw practically hit the floor, heart clenching at his dad's cruel joke. How could his dad be messing around about this. Of all things?

He huffed. "You know what? I'm just gonna walk." He said angrily, and headed out the door, leaving his father with a face twisted in confusion.

"Must be a teenager thing," he shrugged.

***

Kurt got to the office and smiled at Nancy, the receptionist, and she smiled politely back as he tried to walk right into the room like he had for the past 8 years.

But this time, she stopped him and said, "All new patients have to fill out a form."

Kurt immediately backtracked. "I'm not new patient." He explained hastily and with confusion. "I have an appointment."

"Oh! Sorry, then! Didn't recognize you." She apologized.

"What are you talking about, Nancy, you've known me for years." He questioned. She had a blank look on her face. "I went to your daughter's twelfth birthday party!"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't recall. Under what name was your appointment, maybe that will jog my memory."

"Hummel," he answered immediately. "Kurt Hummel."

She hummed curiously as she searched through the files on her clipboard. "I'm sorry," she finally answered. "But there's no record of any appointments under that name... Past or present."

Kurt took a step back, shaking his head. "No," he murmured. "That's impossible!" He shook his head vigorously. "This can't be happening!"

Nancy furrowed her eyebrows. "Maybe a therapist isn't what you need, but perhaps a psych—"

Kurt cut her off, pointing a stern finger at her. "I am not crazy! I have been coming here half my life!" He backed off, closed his eyes and swallowed in an attempt to try and keep his cool. "I was in a car accident when I was nine, I watched my best friend die..." He opened his eyes before the haunting images could flood his memory. "I am a lot of things... But I'm not insane."

And with that he headed out the door, making his way for his house in search of someone who would remember.

***

As soon as Kurt got home he rushed up to Finn's room and practically burst into his room. "Please tell me you remember," he begged.

"You gotta be more specific than that, bro." Finn laughed.

"Blaine. The Anderson family minus Cooper. Eight years ago." He puffed out.

Finn's face suggested that for all he knew, the jumble of words coming out of Kurt's mouth were part if the Da Vinci code. "Sorry," he shrugged. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Kurt deflated defeatedly. Sighing, he sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. "I can't... I'm losing my mind." He whimpered. By this point, Finn looked extremely concerned and even a bit frightened. "How can nobody remember?" He asked himself, lifting his head up, revealing red and puffy eyes. Finn opened his mouth to try and comfort his step brother when the other boy suddenly stood up and yelled. "Santana!" headed out the door, pulling out his phone and calling up his Latina friend.

The door slammed shut and Finn was left lying in his bed in confusion. "Um... Ok, then..."

***

Kurt watched as one of his best friends walked through the doors of the Lima Bean, ordered her usual coffee and took a seat next to him. "So what's this all about, Porcelain?"

"I need you to be serious for a second, San." Kurt looked her right in the eye, practically holding his breath in anticipation. "Do you remember... My accident?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What kind of question is that, Kurt?" His stomach dropped until she continued. "Of course I remember, I was there."

He exhaled, feeling relieved to finally have the validation that he was not insane. "Oh thank god." He mumbled.

"What's going on?" She asked suspiciously.

Kurt just shook his head. "No one else remembers, San."

"What do you mean?" She questioned.

He sighed and shrugged. "No one remembers the accident... And I don't know why."

"Maybe they're just messing with you?" She offered.

"The therapy office, too?" He asked condescendingly, cocking his head to the right just slightly.

Her face dropped. "Oh..."

"Yeah..." He rubbed his temples, head hurting from trying to think up explanations for this craziness. "Maybe I'm dreaming?" He contemplated.

Santana twisted her mouth and shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm as real as you are."

"That's exactly something someone in a dream would say." She sighed, not really knowing what to do or say to comfort him. "You know what," he started up again. "Maybe it is just a joke—a cruel one... But I think I'm just gonna go home and rest, get my head together, because for all we know I could be having a mental breakdown..."

"Trust me," she reassured. "You're not."

He picked up his bag and got up to leave, waving at her. "See you tomorrow," he said.

She smiled. "Later, Hummel."

***

The next day, Santana took her seat next to a defeated looking Kurt in the choir room. "Still no luck?" She asked. He shook his head sadly. "Hey," she started, squaring his boulders to face her. "We will figure this out, I promise you."

Before she could go any further, Mr. Shue walked in and started with his daily announcements. "First off," he began. "I'd like you all to give a warm welcome to the newest member of the New Directions... Blaine Anderson!"

Kurt's stomach dropped about a billion stories when he heard that familiar name, and Santana looked over at him with concern. This has to be a dream, He tried to convince himself. But the second a boy with lightly tanned skin, dark, curly, gelled back hair, and hazel eyes walked in, he knew it was all too real.

He stood up from his chair and faced the glee club. "I don't know what you all are trying to pull," he shouted, voice trembling. "But its not funny!" He looked at them accusingly. "How could all do this to me?"

"Uh, dude, what are you talking about?" Puck asked.

"Just stop it!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "You guys are taking this stupid joke, or whatever the fuck this is way too far! Don't you get that!?"

"Hey, calm down," Mr. Shue tried.

"No!" He let out a shaky breath, eyes starting water up. "Please just stop this," he begged. And with that, he ran off towards the door, pushing past his instructor and the boy in his hysterical fit.

***

Not long after Kurt ran out the room, the new kid came after him and found him hugging his knees against a locker. "Are you ok?" He asked.

Kurt's head popped up, revealing blue eyes, red and puffy from crying. "Look," he started. "You're probably confused, unless my friends are actually asshats and told you everything to play a seriously messed up prank on me. But, honestly, I do not care. I really need you to stay away from me, please... I don't need you to understand it, but I need to to try and respect that because if you didn't, I probably couldn't cope."

The boy looked down sadly and shuffled his feet, mumbling, "Nice to meet you, Kurt." softly as he sulked back into the choir room.

He slowly lifted his head, eyebrows furrowed in thought as the boy walked away and realized _I never told him my name..._


End file.
